Tag Archives | barns

Gravel Tramp Mega Pixel Post

On Tuesday, I did my second Gravel Tramp® in two days, completing a 7.66-mile loop and taking way too many photos in a hair over two hours.

Unlike Monday, there was no sun, and the temps hung at just about freezing. I saw a lot of great stuff (like Amish school kids playing soccer at recess!!) and a lot of fucked up shit, as you will see further on.

I wanted to share a few more words than usual in the photo captions for this post, so the format is a little different. Also, there is a photo towards the end that is pretty graphic, so I have blurred it. It’s up to you if you want to click it or not.

14.70 miles of Gravel Tramping® in two has my legs a bit sore today, so no lumbering today. Just some attempts at home repair that may or may not result in me having a breakdown before I reluctantly call Al The Handyman.

Enjoy the photos!

Later

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Better Than Nothing, Again

I was up at 6:15 AM on Friday to embrace whatever fresh hell moderate inconveniences the day might throw at me. It’s been raining for like three days straight, and when it’s not raining, it’s gloomy as fuck as if it were raining. So it took a few extra guzzles of coffee and the promise of sunshine later in the day to finally convince me to start thinking about possibly leaving the house to ride my bike.

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A Wet Escape

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____.

Friday night, I did Friday night things, and some of those things were done in close proximity to Wifey. And if I had to guess, I’d say those things were done well within a 6′ radius of her. I also sat my ass on the back porch by myself and enjoyed the sunny, warm (60˚!) spring evening with a tasty beverage or three. All of that was a great way to end a day of running (or riding) away from problems via exercise and high ABVs.

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Dog Hairs

NOT REALLY QUARANTINED DAY ____ 

The title of this post could be referring to the amount of (Lola) dog hair I find in, on, around, beside, below, and above almost every piece of furniture, in every room, and in every orifice in the house (don’t ask). But it’s not.

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Poor Planning Ends Well

A 30-mile dirt road ride with roughly 5 feet of elevation gain should not be a big deal. And it’s NOT. Unless you’re a fat moron, recovering from an ankle sprain, who has been on his bike exactly 3(?) times in the past four weeks and waited until the hottest and windiest time of the day to ride his bike.

But, that’s what happened; c’est la vie.

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